He toiled in silence, never cursing, never complaining, simply focused
on the task of getting the campfire lit. And when he succeeded, he
showed no satisfaction, no joy.
With the fire finally blazing, the TIE pilot ducked back inside his hut,
rummaged in a vine-woven basket, and returned with a large spherical
fruit. The fruit was encased in an ugly, warty brown rind. Jaina did
not recognize it. It was nothing they ate at the Jedi academy.
Holding it in his injured, gauntleted hand, the pilot used a sharpened
stone to split open the rind, then peeled the fruit with his fingers.
The flesh inside was pale yellowishgreen, speckled with scarlet. He
broke the fruit into sections, shuffled over to the two captives, and
pushed one of the fruit sections in Jaina's face. "Eat."
She clamped her lips together for a moment, afraid that the Imperial
soldier might be trying to poison her. Then she realized that the TIE
pilot could have killed either of them at any time-and that she was
extremely hungry and thirsty.
Her hands still bound by the drying vine, she leaned forward and opened
her mouth to bite into the bright fruit. The explosion of tart
citrus-tasting juice proved surprisingly invigorating and delicious. She
chewed slowly, savoring the taste, and swallowed.
Jacen also ate his. They nodded their thanks to the TIE pilot, who
fixed them with a stony gaze.
Sensing an opening, Jacen asked, "What are you going to do with us,
sir?" He tried to rub his chin against his shoulder to wipe off the
juice dribbling from his lips.
The TIE pilot stared unnervingly at him for several moments before he
turned his face toward the bushes. "Not yet determined."
Jaina's chest muscles constricted. All of this had been an accident, a
mistake. From the thick bushes, the TIE pilot had probably watched them
tinker with his ruined ship for days. But Jacen's accidental discovery
of his primitive shelter had forced him to react.
What could the Imperial soldier do with them? He didn't seem to have
many options.
"What's your name?" Jaina asked.
The TIE pilot snapped upright and looked down at the black leather glove
covering his twisted arm. He turned slowly toward her, like a droid
with worn-out servomotors.
"CE3K-1977." He rattled off the numbers as if he had memorized them.
Service rank and operating number only.
"Not your number," Jaina persisted. "Your name. I'm Jaina. This is my
brother Jacen."
"CE3K-1977," the TIE pilot said again, without emotion.
"Your name?p' Jaina asked a third time.
Finally her question seemed to perplex him. He looked at the ground,
looked at his tattered uniform. His mouth opened and closed several
times, but no sound came out, until finally he said in a croaking voice,
"Qorl . . . Qorl. My name was Qorl."
"We're staying at the academy in the old temples," Jacen said, wearing a
small grinthe kind that always disarmed their mother when she was angry
at him. But it didn't seem to be working with the TIE pilot.
"Rebel base," Qorl said.
"No, it's a school now," Jaina said. "Everyone's there to learn. It's
not a base any longer.
it hasn't been a base for . . . twenty years or so. Pt
"it is a Rebel base," Qorl insisted with such finality that Jaina
decided not to pursue the subject any further.
"How did you get here?" she asked, leaning closer on the smooth rock.
The campfire crackled between them. "How long have you lived in the
jungle?" The tight vines constricting her circulation made her hands
numb.
She flexed her fingers as she bent toward the fire. The smoke smelled
rich and sweet from the fresh jungle wood.
The TIE pilot blinked his pale eyes and stared into the crackling
flames. He looked as if he had been transported back in time and was
"Death Star," Qorl said. "I was on the Death Star. We came here to
destroy the Rebel base after Grand Moff Tarkin blew up Alderaan.
This was our next target."
Jaina felt a pang as she remembered her mother talking of the lovely
grass-covered planet Alderaan, the peaceful windsongs and tall towers
rising above the plains. Princess Leia's home had been the heart of
galactic culture and civilization-untii it was wiped out in a single
blow by the incredible cruelty of the Empire.
"We must obliterate the Rebels at all costs," Qorl continued. "Rebels
cause damage to the Empire."
He recited a litany of what seemed to be memorized phrases, thoughts
that had been brainwashed into him. "The Emperors New Order will save
the galaxy. The Rebels want to destroy that dream, and so we must
eradicate the Rebels. They are a cancer to peace and stability."
"You were on the Death Star," Jacen prompted. "That was over twenty
years ago.
What happened?"
Oorl continued to stare deeply into the fire.
His scratchy voice was barely more than a whisper. "The Rebels knew we
were coming.
They fought. They sent their defenses against the battle station.
All TIE squadrons were launched.
"I flew with my squadron. All my companions were destroyed by X-wing
defensive fire.
I was damaged in the cross fire . . . one solar panel out of
commission. I spun away from the Death Star, out of control.
"I needed to get back to effect repairs. All comm channels were jammed,
filled with dozens of requests for assistance. My orbit was decaying,
and I spun toward the fourth moon of Yavin. I kept trying to hail
someone on the comm channels. When I finally got through, I was told I
would have to wait for rescue. They instructed me to make a good
landing if I could-and to wait."
"So you crashed," Jaina said.
"The jungle cushioned my fall. I was thrown out of my craft into the
dense brush . . . when one of the solar panels caught and lodged in the
trees above. I limped over to my TIE fighter. Stayed as close as I
dared, afraid that it might explode.
My arm-" He held up his left arm in the black leather gauntlet. "Badly
injured, ligaments torn, bones broken.
"I looked up into the sky just in time to see the Death Star blow up. It
was like another sun in the sky. Flaming chunks of debris fell through
the air. It must have started dozens of forest fires. For weeks,
meteor showers were like fireworks as the wreckage rained' down onto the
moon.
"And I stayed here."
The firelight bathed Oorl's face with a dancing, yellowish glow. The
jungle sounds burred in a hypnotic hum all around them.
The TIE pilot gave no sign that he realized his two captives were
listening. Only his lips moved as he continued his tale.
"I have waited here, and waited, as ordered. No one has come to rescue
me."
"But," Jaina said, "all those years! This place has been abandoned for
quite some time, but people have been at the Jedi academy for eleven
years now. Why haven't you turned yourself in? Don't you realize
what's happened in the galaxy since you crashed.
"Surrender is betrayal!" Oorl snapped, glaring at her as anger
flickered across his weathered face.
"But we're not lying," Jacen said. "The war is over. There is no more
Empire." He took a deep breath and then plunged ahead. "Darth Vader is
dead. The Emperor is dead. The New Republic now rules. Only a few
remnants of old Imperial holdouts are still buried in the Core Systems
at the center of the galaxy."
"I don't believe you," Oorl said flatly.
"If you take us back to the Jedi academy we can prove it. We can show
you everything," Jaina said. "Wouldn't you like to go home?
Wouldn't you like to be free of this place? We could get your arm
treated."
Qorl held up his glove and stared at it. "I used my medi-kit," he said.
"I tended it as best I could. It is good enough, although there was
much pain . . . for a long time."
"But we've got Jedi healers!" Jaina said.
"We've got medical droids. You could be happy again. Why stay here?
There's nothing to betray: there is no more Empire."
"Be quiet," Oorl said. "The Empire will always rule. The Emperor is
invincible."
"The Emperor is dead," Jacen said.
"The Empire itself can never die," Oorl insisted.
"But if you won't let us take you back to get help, then what do you
want?" Jaina asked.
Jacen nodded, chiming in. "What are you trying to accomplish?"
"What can we do for you, Oorl?"
The TIE pilot turned away from the campfire to stare at them. His
haggard, weatherbeaten face held new power and obsession, springing from
deep within his mind.
"You will finish repairs to my ship," he said. "And then I shall fly
away from this prison moon. III return to the Empire as a glorious hero
of war. Surrender is betrayaland I never surrendered."
"And what if we won't help you?" Jacen said with all the bravado he
could manage.
Jaina instantly wanted to kick him for provoking the TIE pilot.
Qorl looked at the young boy, his face coldly expressionless again.
"Then you are -----------------expendable," he said.
IT TOOK EM TEEDEE several moments to recalibrate his sensors after he
dropped from Lowbacca's fiber-belt. He had fallen, bouncing, crashing,
and honking through the canopy until he finally came to rest on a dense
mat of leafy vines that tied together the lower branches.
"Master Lowbacca, come back!" he said, amplifying his voice circuits to
their maximum volume levels. "Don't leave me! Oh, dear. I knew that
was a bad idea."
He adjusted his optical sensors so he could see better in the dim light
of the lower levels.
He was surrounded by thickets that were nearly inaccessible to anyone as
large as even a young Wookiee.
"Help! Help me!" Em Teedee shouted again. He decided it would be
most effective to continue shouting every forty-five seconds, because he
calculated that was the minimum amount of time necessary for anyone
nearby to come within earshot.
Unable to move and scout out his location, Em Teedee's best guess was
that he was still twenty meters above the ground. He hoped that no
slight jarring of the branches would cause him to break free and tumble
down again. If he fell that far to the ground, he might strike one of
the rough lava outcroppings and split open his outer casing. With his
circuits spilled across the jungle floor, no one would ever be able to
put him back together again in the proper fashion. His circuits buzzed
at the thought.
Forty-five seconds had passed. He called out again for help, then
waited. He shouted repeatedly for the next hour and eleven minutes,
hoping desperately to attract some sort of attention, someone to come
rescue him.
But when he finally did attract a curious investigator, Em Teedee wished
he had kept his vocal circuits switched off.
A large pack of chatterin woolamanders scurried through the lower
canopy, stirring up leaves and cracking twigs in their hectic passage.
The arboreal creatures were loud and agile, able to clamber from thin
branches to thick ones and back again without losing their balance. They
seemed to be engaged in a contest to see who could yowl and chatter the
loudest in the jungle silence as twilight deepened.
Somehow, over all the ruckus, they managed to hear Em Teedee's cries for
help.
Em Teedee knew from his limited database of Yavin 4 that woolamanders
were curious, social creatures. Now that they had heard him, they began
to search. In only moments, with their sharp, slit-eyed vision, they
had spotted the translator droid's shiny outer casing in the jungle
shadows. The pack of colorful, hairy creatures swarmed toward him.
"Oh, no," Em Teedee cried. "Not you.
Please-I was hoping for someone else to rescue me."
The woolamanders came closer, rattling branches, rustling leaves. Their
bright purple fur bristled with suspicion and delight.
"Go away! Shoo!" Em Teedee said.
The woolamanders let out a loud, shrieking celebration of their
discovery. A large male snatched Em Teedee from his resting place in
the vines.
"Put me down," Em Teedee said. "I insist that you let go of me at
once."
The large male tossed Em Teedee to his mate, w o caug t t trans ato roid
and turned him over and around, pong at the, shiny circles. She dug her
grimy f nger into the gold circle of his optical sensors.
"That's my eye-get your finger away from it! Now I'm upside down.
Straighten me out . . . put me down!"
The female shook and rattled him to see if he would make other noises.
When she went to a thick branch and made ready to smash him down on it,
as she would crack open a large fruit, Em Teedee set off his automatic
alarm sirens, shrieking and whooping at such volume and at such a
painful pitch that the female dropped him. He bounced on another leafy
branch, then came precariously to rest.
"Help!" Em Teedee wailed.
One of the smaller woolamanders rushed in to snatch him from his resting
place. With loud chattering and squeals of delight, the young
woolamander dashed along the lower branches, holding his prize high as
Em Teedee continued to howl for assistance. The other young
woolamanders chased after the youngster, clamoring for the prize.
Em Teedee, in such a panic that he could no longer stand it without
overloading his circuits, shut down so he wouldn't have to see what was
about to happen to him.
Sometime late in the night he powered back on again to find that he
could see nothing: his optical sensors were covered with thick fur.
He detected a gentle motion . . . breathing, snoring. Then the young
woolamander stir-red in its sleep. It shifted, allowing Em Teedee to
discover that the small creature now lay sleeping in the crotch of a
tree branch, contentedly hugging his new toy to his fur-covered chest.
Around them, the other family members of the large arboreal group sighed
and dozed, resting peacefully. Em Teedee h
ad an impulse to cry out
again for help, still hoping that someone might come to rescue him.
All the noisy woolamanders were finally asleep, though, and Em Teedee
decided to treasure this moment of peace. He could only hope for
something better to happen the next day. ----------------DAWN CAME FAST
and hot, as the distant white sun climbed around the fuzzy ball of
Yavin. Jungle creatures awoke and stirred.
The air warmed rapidly, thick with humidity that rose from low hollows
where mist had collected in the night.
Jacen and Jaina had slept awkwardly, their hands still tied with the
resilient purple vines. Jacen fervently wished he had spent more time
practicing delicate and precise Force exercises. He didn't have the
skill or the accuracy to nudge and untie the thin knotted vines with his
mind.
As soon as there was light enough to work, Oorl emerged from his tree
shelter and shook the twins awake. He gave them each sips of cool water
from a gourd he dipped in the stream, then used a long stone knife to
saw off the vines binding their wrists.